


at the end of last night's party

by anentirerice



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Jake has a SQUIP and Rich doesn't, Jake is obviously ignoring Rich because Rich isn't really 'cool', M/M, angst with a happy ending?????, there's kissing i guess, this only covers the part in the AU where Rich confronts Jake at a party, this takes place in an AU my friend and I created
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:05:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anentirerice/pseuds/anentirerice
Summary: Richard Goranski isn't what one would call cool, but he's grateful to have a friend like Jake around to help him out.Until Jake isn't around anymore, that is.





	1. Chapter 1

It was official: Richard Goranski fucking hated parties. 

 

On second thought, he was likely exaggerating. In all honesty, he just really hated _ this _ party.

 

He didn’t mind the swarms of people too much - anxious as they may have made him, he grew used to the crowd. The constant barrage of the smell of alcohol and weed inevitably became dull, and he found himself straying  – what had been his objective in coming here in the first place?

 

Upon further analysis, he concluded that there was very little he knew to be certain. What he  _ did  _ know, in order of realization:

 

He knew he was concerned for his friend, who had begun to ignore him – well, he’d begun to ignore just about everyone, but it had become all the more personal when Jake had started to purposefully avoid him specifically. He knew that Jake was hurting, and that by extension, _and_ even ignoring everything _else_ Jake had done, so was he.

 

And then, of course, he knew that these had been his initial objectives, whether or not he’d actually wanted to admit them to himself. 

 

This in mind, he pushed through a cluster of girls toward Jake’s room. 

 

The door was ajar when he arrived, and as Rich nudged it open further, he felt his stomach turn with the most peculiar sense of dread. 

 

Jake sat on his bed, sure as a star, but he didn’t appear to be in the best of states. He gazed down into his drink with owlish, glassy eyes and cheeks suffused with a drunken tint, murmuring gibberish to himself.

 

When he lifted his gaze, he felt his heart leap into his throat. He scrambled back onto the bed, nails digging into the mattress, kicking past sheets in horror. “N – nonono, I  _ drank, I’m fucking drunk,  _ you were gone, you  _ were finally fucking gone _ – _ ” _

 

As he said that, Rich’s expression was overcome with crushing, overwhelming hurt, and, quite against his will, Jake’s heart seized  – briefly, he considered the fact that he didn’t think a SQUIP could make an expression so...  _ human. _

 

Following that, he realized he may have just said something  _ very terrible  _ to the _ real Rich.  _

 

“R–  _ Richie? ‘s it _ – is it the  _ real you?” _

 

Rich’s face snapped up to greet Jake’s, full of hurt and confusion. “The – the  _ real me _ ?”

 

Jake inched forward ever-so-slowly with a firm nod, reaching a trembling hand out in tense, terrified expectance for what would come.

 

What he’d expected, however, was not what he received. Rich’s hand fell into his, the cuffs of his sweatshirt pulled over his fingers. Jake stared down at their hands for a moment, eyes wide with awe and fondness.

 

He yanked Rich down aside him, pulling him into a hug, murmuring tearfully. “R-Richie, I’ve missed you  _ s-so, so much,  _ I miss being  _ me, I miss everyone, I wanna go back, I wanna go back and undo everything…” _

 

Rich gazed up at him, horrified. Hadn’t Jake been avoiding  _ him?  _

 

He shook his head, smoothing comforting circles into Jake’s back with one hand  – with his free one, he caught Jake’s wrist and eased it down, guiding his drink to the nightstand. “From now ‘till the rest of the night, we’re gonna be drinking water, okay, Jakey?”

 

Jake shook his head, beginning to stutter out in panicked hesitation. “Rich, R- Rich, I  _ need you,  _ I  _ need  _ to talk to you while I can, while, um, before  _ it  _ comes  _ back a _ –”

 

– but he visibly relaxed at the sight of Rich’s gentle, caring smile.  

 

Not knowing what to do, he dumbly smiled back. Rich nodded, squeezing Jake’s hand before rising and pivoting toward the bathroom. He returned moments later with a glass. Jake nodded in grateful silence, quickly gulping down the entire glass.

 

The two of them remained there for a moment before Rich piped up. “Jakey...can you tell me what happened?”

 

Without hesitation, Jake nodded. He began to stammer out the story, words fumbling out of his mouth. “I...I was tryin’to – I didn’t….wanna bother you guys, I- I felt so  _ alone,  _ I thought the– the pill would help, but it didn’t, and it’s  _ mean, it’s so fuckiing mean, _ and  _ you  _ keep telling me how terrible I am, a-a-and you–”

 

“Wait,  _ me?” _

 

“Yeah, you– you kept saying I needed to stop talking to...to Rich, or, um, to  _ you,  _ so I- I did, and I’m s-s-so sorry, I thought it was what you wanted–”

 

“Jakey, you know I’d–”

 

“But you’re the real one, right?” Jake blurted, his voice laced with panic. He locked eyes with Rich, breaths short and frantic. “You’re the real one, you  _ have  _ to be, I–…”

 

His shoulders sagged. He began to cry, clinging to Rich’s chest with newfound desperation. He felt two arms wrap around his back, holding him closely, tightly, offering comforting little squeezes ever-so-often. 

 

After a few minutes, his sobs tapered into whimpers. He pressed his forehead against Rich’s shoulder, resting there before speaking. “Richie, I don’t think I can do this.”

 

Rich glanced down at him, eyes wide. “W...what?”

 

“I can’t do this anymore, it hurts too much  – oh god, it hurts  _ so fucking much, Richie, I can’t do this _ –”

 

Rich let out a series of panicked  _ ‘shhhh’ _ s, nodding and speaking gently into Jake’s hairline. “We’re gonna get through this, okay? I’m gonna help you, and we’re gonna stop...whatever’s going on with you. I  _ promise,  _ Jakey.” 

 

“Nonono –”

 

“We  _ will,”  _ Rich insisted, raising Jake’s chin with his fingers. Jake wiped at his face and sniffled.

 

A handful of seconds passed in silence before he leaned forward, closing the distance and pressing a kiss to Rich’s mouth.

 

When he pulled back, he flashed a trembling smile and thumbed at Rich’s jaw. Rich fastened his hand over Jake’s and stared up at him, face burning. 

Though he admired the surge of happiness in his chest, he couldn’t help the way his feelings sank when he remembered that Jake was, in fact, drunk, and that it had all probably been a heat-of-the-moment circumstance. After taking a moment to flounder for his words, he dropped his hand and settled on a simple, “We should...get you to bed.”


	2. you are the person i want to be with every day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all were asking for a continuation of this mess, so uh... let me lay down The Facts.
> 
> \- This AU was made by me and my very dear friend Nick/@whenawriter! It has some pretty deep roots in our partner ask blogs, @askjakedillinger (hers) and @askrichardgoranski (mine). Not that I'm totally plugging it here, but uhhhh check those out.  
> \- I do intend to update it with a epilogue of sorts/hospital scene, so, uh. Yeah. That's lit. And maybe a prequel. But that's for another day.  
> \- Sorry it's short, but I wrote it in a fever of inspiration at ten at night in under an hour.

 

It only got worse from there. That being said, things had to get worse before they got better, right?  

That had been what Rich hoped, at least. He had too much riding on that hope to fail now.

Way too fucking much hope for his liking. Rich considered himself to be unreliable at best. Perhaps unpredictable, at worst.

Anyway.

In the week following the party, Rich was insistent he could help Jake given time and an utterly _insane_ amount of research. Even on the days that Jake didn’t show up to school. Even on the days Rich had to call Jake time after time to get even the barest of hints as to where he’d run off to. Even when he caught him stoned (or drunk, if the day was a particularly bad one) behind the school. Even when he panicked and jerked out of Rich’s grasp because he was never, ever too sure if this was the real one.

On one of those days, Rich didn’t show up. Jake was a frantic mess - Rich took the edge off the hurting in a way that drugs and alcohol couldn’t. Even with the text updates and reassuring smiles that he would be back and he would be extremely, _extremely_ ready to end this once and for all.

And then, the very next day, Rich frantically rounded the corner, streaming apologies as if the world itself had told him that Jake had needed him and he wasn’t there. He was profuse in his regrets just as he so often was, even as he produced a scarlet two-liter of some retro off-brand soda Jake still couldn’t put a name to.

He distinctly remembered a sharp hissing, scrabbling in his mind. _Don’t you dare drink it, Jacob.  You’re throwing everything I’ve done for you away._

**_What have you done for me lately, exactly?_ **

_I...sense you’re angry. Temporary fixtures. I was making sure you didn’t need anyone else. Without anyone holding you down, I could turn you into the best version of yourself._

**_What the fuck does that mean? What’s your end goal? You haven’t helped me at all! All you’ve done is hurt my friends and- and-_ **

_And_ **_what?_ ** _They’re dead weight, Jacob. They’re small in the grand scheme. You’re trashing a perfect,_ **_happy_ ** _future by letting them back in. You wouldn’t dare._

Without a moment’s reflection, he stole the bottle from Rich’s hands, fumbled the cap off, and began to chug. He continued even after Rich began to split and destruct and Rich, the real Rich, _his_ Rich warped and blurred in his vision. He was sure at some point Rich lowered it away from his face. 

Fireworks, electric and surreal bursts of pained sensations, skittered through every vein. He was vaguely sure he felt arms closing around him, in terrible tandem with the twin pulses of electricity in his head, his chest, his arms. Everything was falling apart and finally, finally sorting itself out at the same time, and it confused and startled him.

He was lowered to the ground by Rich’s hands, gentle, patient fingers running through his hair as he shook erratically, violently.

_“Hello, um, yes, 911? Uhh, my friend sort of screamed and then collapsed and - he’s shaking super badly, I think he’s having some kind of… He’s laying here... No, I don’t know what happened… We’re at the south face, um, Middleborough High School in Red Bank...”_

The world became a bright, watercolor mess, he felt Rich’s embrace slipping away, and then he was unconscious.


End file.
